The Mirror Cracked
by Black Aliss
Summary: Through the bannisters of his ancestral home a young Blaise Zabini views something that will change his life forever...


There are moments in all of our lives when the shattering of our childhood begins and the warped image is put back into place. The cracks remain, but this time the mirror reflects the darker side of life, what is not only good, but real.

The mirror c'racked from side to side… 

Blaise sat scrunched up in the window seat on the 3rd landing. Forced into this awkward position by his curiosity his scabbed knees were bent at uncomfortable angles so that he could get the best view of the goings on in the Downstairs World without being caught.

Blue eyes shone with hidden glee at finally being able to discover what was happening.

After a dinner of lasagna and a glass of milk his mother had come to the kitchen to tell him to go to bed. Cook had been very surprised and nearly dropped her cooking pan, the Mistress _never_ came to the Servant's quarters, dropping down the daily menus through a dumbwaiter. Thus removing the need for her to be associating with such filth.

It was a sign of his parents general clueless ness that they had not realized that being told not to do something merely strengthened ones resolve to do it.

Down below strange men and women clothed in ridiculous black cloaks with masks were filing into the hall steadily while the torches burned steadily in their brackets. The green witch light casting an eery glow across the room.

The people seemed to glide rather than walk, and from above it was as if an intricate dance was unfolding.

If the uncertain and less accomplished were grey dots and the true performers black as it seemed to Blaise, then it was quite obvious that there was a definite method to the madness, like sand flowing into patterns. T

he slightly unsteady on their feet were twirled away on the arms of their black companions and introduced into a group of all old comers.

They would stay there a minute whispering in hushed silence, several of the conversations drifted upward on the humid night air to reach Blaise's ears

_Senile old fool…Mugwump indeed._

_You won't make a mistake like Regulus, will you? Poor Reg, such a nice boy _

One voice drifted up through the rafters, it carried with it a sinister air as if there was more to the picture and the scene before then could be glimpse from the outside.

_'Til he fell in with a bad lot_ a sultry voice mocked slowly, _My poor dear cousin, quite inept, a clod, but notheless a useful one, even in death._

Blaise shivered, though the warm Italian night had been one of the hottest of the summer, The air shimmering as if it was made of silk and you had to swim through it to reach the lavatory to spray perfume and mop a sweaty brow.

The lady below had killed her cousin from what Blaise could understand. Had his parents any idea? He wondered. Surely not, they wouldn't allow filth like _that_ into Zabini Manor.

Of course not.

The grey dots were drawn away again, on arms of the black until they became, quite, quite, charcoal in color.

Blaise strained his eyes to identify a familiar form. Finally, he saw his mother standing off to the side, she too wearing one of those absurd robes, the hood thrown back, her wide red lips parted in a cruel laugh, a cascade of chestnut curls sweeping down her back. A porcelain hand placed gently on her male counterpart's arm.

Suddenly the knocker sounded loud and large in the forced silence anticipation spread through the hall like wildfire, the greys and charcoals seem to glance as one toward the exits, while the blacks, keeping a firm grip on the untutored, swung their gazes towards the two great oak doors in the great hall fanatical gleams in their eyes.

His father strode quickly across the hall, emerging from one of the small rooms he usually used for business. His tie was slightly askew, and his hair rumpled

Blaise watched silently as he saw his mother throw him a loathing look of disgust, before smiling in an entirely suggestive way and raising her champagne glass to her half parted lips with a nod to her male companion.

Father looked back at the two sneering slightly, rearranged his tie and opened the door. Why hadn't Father called for the butler? Blaise wondered, it wasn't proper for a _Zabini_ to open the doors.

The great panels of wood swung back slowly as the heavy machinery beneath the castle spun turned by the current of the _Tia Papuille_.

A couple stood framed in the doorframe. Emblazoned against the velvet night sky the sounds of the carousing from the nearby village drifted up. The man echoed a thousand times so formidable was his personality, he too was clad in all black. But black of a different color, a cruel white face highlighted by platinum hair. The smile was awful as the man turned to face the gathered assembly who let out their breathes as if the last gasp of air had been their last.

_Good Evening _the voice said, terrible to match the towering personality

_Good Evening, Lucius_ his father said acknowledging the monstrosity. Addressing him as a friend his father shook the monster's hand genially.

The woman at _Lucius's_ left nodded at him as well, ice blonde hair falling elegantly around her shoulders. Her hands were wrapped around a bundle.

Blaise's father inclined his eyebrows in astonishment, _You brought Draco, was that entirely wise?_

The blonde man smirked at his father in a nasty way, _It's never to early to learn Georgio, you ought to know that, of…all people_. He finished with levity his eyes belying the tone with which he spoke.

_I'm sure my son is quite capable of making the right decisions for himself_ Georgio said icily, unaware of his son's presence on the stairwell where sweat was slowly trickling down the 5 year old's face.

Blaise averted his eyes from the scene and turned to the blonde women, she certainly was beautiful rivers of ice blonde hair falling straight down her back. He could see that she was not Italian and she was beautiful in a different way, the English way.

The women's eyes roamed across the hall before alighting on another couple. It was the women who had spoken before, a temptress with waves of shining black hair, she nodded at the blonde women. _Sister, Mine_ the red lips formed slowly.

The blonde turned her gaze on the man, a look of intense familiarity passing between them made the air thick and clammy.

Blaise felt sick.

_We shall begin_ The blonde man intoned unaware of the mini drama playing out beside him. At his command the cloaks swirled in a spiral formation revealing at the center of the hall a stage strewn with flowers.

Blaise froze, he had gone too far in now, he could not back out now…whatever happened he would know and bear the knowledge.

A minute passed and then two, Roberto, Blaise's older cousin emerged from a side room leading a goat by a rope wound around his hand.

He drifted to Lucius's side, clearly awaiting instructions. _Zenobia, will you do the honors?_ Lucius asked Blaise's mother.

She nodded and shrugged off her black gown revealing a robe of pure white lined with gold, traditional goddess apparel.

'We meet here this night, in honor and memory of our master. This being we send him in prayer for his return' She intoned a wicked look on her face.

To Blaise she looked like Eris, spirit of strife and discord her hand outstretched clasped around the handle of a golden sickle that glinted in the light from the torches.

The goat bleated plaintively in the chill but the sound was lost as the blade slid through the air and landed.

Blood spurted everywhere, torrents of blood forming pools as the goat's sightless filmly eyes seemed to stare accusingly right at him.

The head rolled of the dias and landed with a plop in the creature's own blood.

Blaise shook in horror a numbness settling over his mind. His mother daintily raised her skirts and stepped out of the way, a scarlet tongue extending cat like to wipe off a small droplet of blood.

And the baby in the cradle surrounded by the fast congealing liquid put his chubby hands together and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Blaise could stand it no more and stole away to bed.

Fin


End file.
